


Bittersweet

by polkachipped



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Music, Self-Esteem Issues, also, bromance or brobromance its your choice, i originally wrote it as platonic but guess what it turned sorta romantic, idk what to tag this but uh, im bad at tags what else is new, its a good time?, this could be seen as platonic or romantic, trigger warning: ukulele, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 09:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15530904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polkachipped/pseuds/polkachipped
Summary: Patton tries to write a song alone in his room, but two heads are better than one.aka a weird mix of fluff and angstsobittersweet, really





	1. Ukuleles Don't Always Cooperate

**Author's Note:**

> pls love this its my favorite idea I've come up with

Strumming along on his worn out plastic pastel blue ukulele was all Patton could really do, for the time being. 

  


Those four, plucky little nylon strings really sound like Hawaii- even if the instrument didn’t originate from there. It sounded like the tune should be flowing in the wind with the rest of nature- palm trees shaking along in amusement, rainbows smiling down upon him as he made the universe happy, just for a small while.

  


It was unfortunate that the most lively thing Patton had as an audience was the dust that swirled around his room, as silent as Patton himself.

  


No, he didn’t make a sound. His ukulele did. Normally he would sing along, but he chose to sit on the floor instead, staring ahead at nothing in particular as he strummed a semi-happy tune.

  


Semi-happy?

  


_ No _ , Patton thought to himself.  _ There will be no sadness in my head! It’s been here for too long. It’s okay to be sad- but let’s be happy now! _

  


And with a sudden renewed confidence, Patton jumped to the stage, facing his stuffed animals and his bookshelf, his bedsheets and his dust. His back faced the window as his hand strummed faster than before, in all major notes. Major notes were happy notes, right? Fast means happy-? He sang the first words that presented themselves in his head.

  


_ “I’m strumming along, an impromptu song- the ceiling’s eight feet high! My fingers are hurting, my arm is burning, I wish that I could di-” _

  


He dropped his ukulele before he could finish that sentence, staring at it as if it had possessed his own words. He would never say such a thing- let alone  _ sing _ it. That ukulele received a stern stare- there  _ will _ be no more sadness here. “That’s not right. Let’s try again-!”

  


With slight hesitation, the blue ukulele was in his hand once more, and he plucked out a more relaxed tune- a happy, feel-good tune, nonetheless.

  


_ “I had… breakfast with all of my friends this morn, I ate jam and toast! The jam was delicious, the bread was nutritious, it made my day better, almost!” _

  


Almost?

  


He frowned, tossing the puzzling instrument on his bed with a bit less care than normal. “That must have been a coincidence. ‘Almost’ was the first word I thought of-! Shucks…”

  


Sighing, he sat on his bed, staring at the baby guitar for a moment. It wasn’t that hard to be happy, and it wasn’t that hard to sing a happy song!

  


At least, he thought so.

  


…

  


“Is this why all the songs Virgil listens to are depressing?”


	2. The Strings of a Distinguished Guitar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insomnia isn't an unfamiliar concept in the Sanders Household.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im too excited to proof read this please forgive any mistakes (and tell me if theyre there lmfao)

Patton may not be in Hawaii, but there sure was a breeze picking up outside. And if he closed his eyes, he could imagine his little happy place of sand and ocean sounds and whales breaching the surface for no other reason than to take a breath and say ‘hello’. Little greetings in their loud whale speech. Patton already forgot what he was sad about- why was he sad, anyway?

 

_ … _

 

No, he had no reason to be sad.

 

“Golly- I really need some fresh air,” he mumbled to himself, glancing out his window to the orangey-purple of a fading sunset. The clock on his bedside table read as eight o’ clock. It might be turning nighttime- but that just meant the stars were soon coming out to play. And Patton loved stars! Who doesn’t?

 

A heavy sigh escaped him before he shook his head, forcing a smile on his face. Logan always said smiling helps- the muscles in your mouth communicate to your brain, and your brain says ‘Oh, we’re smiling? We must be happy!’

...At least, that’s how he remembered the conversation. Logan himself might not have phrased it that way. But that’s the way Patton understood it. And he could feel it working, already! It’s like he could hear music before he even started playing anything.

 

He wondered if Logan knew he remembered that little fact- if he really knows how much Patton appreciates his knowledge. He knew the others did too- even if Roman sometimes rolled his eyes and called the man a nerd. Did Roman feel appreciated-? Patton had to miss Roman’s performance last week- Thomas needed something urgent. At least, that’s what Thomas said. Turns out all he needed was to know if he should trust the online cookie recipe that says three eggs or the one that says two.  _ ‘What are you doing combining recipes, goof?’   _ He had asked, to which Thomas responded:  _ ‘Well, both recipes have five star reviews, so I thought if I combined them then I would make ten star cookies.’ _

 

Was Virgil doing okay? He seemed dismissive at the dinner table- when was the last time Patton talked to Deceit-? Was Patton really making sure everyone was cared for? Did they get enough sleep at night? Were they really as happy as they could be?

 

…

 

Why was there no orange light shining through his window anymore?

 

“Oh, jeez-!” Patton physically jumped when he looked over- the sky was pitch black and the stars were brighter than ever. His alarm clock now told the father figure it was two in the morning-  _ two in the morning?! _ White light shone through- the full moon looking down at Patton with the blank face of moon-judgement.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come out sooner, moon! I guess I got lost in my thoughts… Hmph.” 

 

The moon nodded forgivingly, or at least, Patton liked to think she did.

 

Without another word, his ukulele was back in hand and his bedroom door was swung open, a determined moral side tiptoeing quietly down the stairs. He would have stomped down, but he didn’t wish to wake anyone up-

 

...What?

 

He paused halfway down the steps, Patton’s face painted with confusion. Why did he still hear the music? And… Why did it sound like the strings of a distinguished guitar-?

 

…

 

It was a rather somber tune. Where was it coming from?

 

With a new purpose in mind besides visiting the moon, Patton continued his quiet adventure with his ukulele held in front of him like a shield. He didn’t think he’d encounter anything dangerous- but somehow fear still spiked in his chest. He couldn’t think that anyone would be awake right now- or, if anyone was, they’d be in their room. But this sound was definitely coming from outside.

 

An unsure hand turned the doorknob and pushed it open, wincing at the creak it produced. He really needed to oil that door- but the sound did not disturb whatever was producing that sad, sad tone. It grew louder as he stepped into the night air- the cool breeze and the swishing of trees helped him relax a little. Thanks, moon.

 

The moon did not reply, but Patton knew she heard him.

 

With another creak and a wince at the sound, Patton closed the door behind him and stepped down into the front of the house. Now that his eyes adjusted to the night- it wasn’t actually all that dark anymore. The area was shaded in blues and greys and greens, truly it was easy on the eyes. His intention was to set a course to find the music somewhere ahead of him- but was surprised to notice that those strings were coming from  _ behind _ him. Huh-?

 

He spun around and glanced up at the large two-story house (that was bigger on the inside, Logan’s idea) and was surprised to see a familiar, tall figure playing away on his disti- er, violin. 

 

Oh. Logan. What-

 

_ What is he doing on the roof? _

 

The man was as silent as the moon herself as he played his violin- Patton couldn’t make any detail out except the shimmer of his tie and the glint his glasses shone in response to the minimalistic light. He was a silhouette- and somehow, that silhouette of Logan held more emotion than when the known debater was shouting ‘falsehood’. Was this a normal thing Logan did? DId he just… Keep his emotions in check, and then let them all out up here, when everyone was asleep?

 

Wait. He started hearing music at eight o’ clock. It’s now-

 

_ “Logan Logic Sanders _ . You’ve been up there for  _ six hours?!” _

 

_ “GAHH!!!” _

 

A  _ thud _ resonated through the night as Logan fell over in surprise, that dark silhouette disappearing from view. The disturbingly sad tone had been cut off abruptly, leaving a confused, startled, and stuttering Logan in its place. 

 

Patton’s stern upset frown was immediately replaced with the realization that Logan had not previously known Patton was there, and the fact that Logan was currently _ on the roof.  _ “Ohmygoodness! Are you okay?! I’m sorry Logan, I spoke without thinking- it’s just, I thought you were  _ asleep _ , and then I find you  _ here-” _

 

_ “How long _ were you _ down there?!” _

 

Patton bit his tongue, hiding his face behind his ukulele. “I was only here for a minute, I swear! I… I just wanted some fresh air, is all.”

 

Silence was all that came from Logan, and Patton’s worry began to spike. The wind seemed to pick up to replace the awkward tension, the rustling trees almost as loud as the comforting sound of a voice. Thanks, trees. Thanks, wind.

 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the black silhouette of Logan stood back up to look down at Patton, his violin now held at his side. His tie now fluttered in the wind with the speed it picked up, along with his hair- the only two moving details Patton could really focus on.

 

“...I didn’t know you played the ukulele.”

 

The moral trait blinked up at the man, quickly looking back down at his ukulele and laughing a relieved laugh. “Ah- yeah! I’ve been wanting to pick it up ever since the movie Moana came out- I only got around to it just a few months ago though... I’ve been practicing a lot!”

 

He paused, twisting his foot a little as he stood before glancing back up at Logan. “...How long have you been playing the violin-?”

 

“Seven years,” he replied curtly. He wasn’t being rude- Patton knew this. Logan simply held a tone of voice that meant he was lost in thought. This didn’t stop Patton from wondering if he had done something wrong, however-

 

“Care to join me? There’s a ladder on the left side of the house- I’ll help you up.”

 

The moral side smiled a big smile that probably couldn’t be seen very well, shoulders drooping in relief. “Sure, Lo. I’d love to!”


	3. Sadness Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's strange how the thought process of two men who are a part of the same man can differ so greatly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is motherfucking nine pages im crying

At first glance, it seemed like it’d be fun to be up on the roof. Now that Patton was experiencing it first hand, his butt hurt. The roof was scratchy, and at an odd angle. The two opposite sides sat together, instruments rested carefully at their sides with a cautious hand wrapped around them. Logan held a thousand yard stare while Patton was eternally present, his head bouncing lightly.

 

“So- come here often?” Patton joked, winking at the logical trait.

 

Logan did not see the wink nor understand the joke, nodding and taking the question seriously. “Yes, every week. It’s peaceful up here- and rather beautiful, too. I enjoy being under the moon.”

 

Patton chuckled, leaning back to stare up at the big rock. “Yeah, she’s really something, huh?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at the use of the pronoun ‘she’, but didn’t say anything. He decided to be amused in silence. “That, she is.”

 

“Hey- you never told me why you picked up the violin! I always imagined you as more of a piano guy.”

 

Logan smiled once, picking up the instrument and holding it in his lap. From what Patton could make out, it seemed to be black, with a silver design. It looked sleek and professional- except for a small little part on the top left-hand side of the violin. 

 

“Oh, it’s a beautiful instrument. I simply always wanted to play some sort of string instrument, and while a piano would indeed be a good choice-”

 

_ Pianos are string instruments-? _

 

“-the history and the light weight practicality of a violin I simply preferred.”

 

“Mm. That, and Sherlock plays a violin-?”

 

Logan sputtered in surprise, holding the instrument close to his chest and and staring at the smug moral trait. For a moment, Patton was worried he might fall off the roof again, but he quickly recovered.

 

“Yes. That, and Sherlock plays a violin.”

 

A giggle escaped Patton and Logan relaxed, placing the instrument in his lap once more. Letting another smile overtake his face. Patton was surprised to see Logan so happy- he never smiled this many times in a row. He was especially surprised, considering Logan was playing such a sad tone just minutes earlier. 

 

“Hey- got a question for ya.”

 

“Proceed.”

 

“What was that song you were playing earlier?”

 

Logan sighed and squinted, adjusting his glasses as more of a habit than anything else. “I haven’t thought of a name for it yet,” he admitted, to which Patton gasped in response.

 

“You made that song _ yourself?! _ Lo, that’s so cool!” And it only worried Patton more! That song really sent a shiver down his spine… 

 

“Ah, it wasn’t very polished. I was simply experimenting with expression and…” He stopped himself, frowning for a moment, before he breathed out a soft laugh.

 

“You know, it  _ is _ quite ‘cool’, Patton. Thank you. I really do appreciate your compliment.”

 

This redirection of Logan’s expected dismissal of the compliment made Patton want to gasp again, but he didn’t want to attract flies. Do flies come out at night-? “What’s this? Logan, accepting a compliment for something  _ other _ than his big brain?” He teased.

 

“Do I do that a lot-?” Logan seemed surprised, leaning back to stare Patton in the eyes. “I… Well, I suppose if I don’t think something is good enough, I refuse to accept compliments on it. But if my intelligence is complimented, it means that I do have the means to fix whatever I’m doing that isn’t up to my standards. It means that I’m smart enough to fix it. That I can and will make my life better.”

 

Patton was shocked into silence, but Logan did not seem to notice this- he stared at the details of his violin. “I’ve been trying to accept compliments as constructive criticism, except without the criticism. Would that make them simply constructive comments? I think so.”

 

“Logan… What is  _ with _ you tonight?!”

 

It was now Logan’s turn to be shocked- his head whipped up and he clutched the violin like it was a lifeline. “Did I speak something wrong-? I do still accept constructive _ criticism-” _

 

“No, no! I’m just- you’re never this open. Ever. You and Virgil are the most guarded people- I’m pretty sure it’s a left-brain side thing.”

 

“Oh.” Logan smiled again, (Patton wished he would smile more like this in places where there was  _ full light _ ) and waved an arm out to the area around them. “That is because this is my Wisdom Roof.”

 

“Your  _ wisdom roof?” _

 

“Indeed, my Wisdom Roof. Up here, I do my best to be honest with myself, and bring my darkest thoughts to the surface. Which is why I come up here every week- I’ve attempted to keep emotions in check by burying them. It turns out to not be the most effective method. So, I simply hold onto them and let them go up here, like metaphorical birds.”

 

Uneasy silence came from Patton. He shrugged to make himself feel better. “That doesn’t sound healthy either, but it sounds pretty, and you seem happy, so maybe it is?”

 

“I try my best.”

 

The conversation fizzled out there. Patton’s original question about the song had been forgotten by the sudden alarming presence of Logan’s truthfulness- all this philosophical talk about birds and emotions coming from the same man who picked up a violin as soon as he saw Benedict Cumberbatch play one on TV and did karate moves in a purple Donatello mask. 

 

In no way was he surprised- this was Logic, after all. He was more…

 

_...Hm. _

 

“Is that my unicorn sticker I gave you-?!” Patton’s eyes lit up as he finally identified the oddly shaped dark spot in the corner of Logan’s instrument. Logan once again flinched- although, he seemed to be finally getting used to Patton’s presence. “Oh, uh- er, well- you see-”

 

“I gave this to you six months ago! I didn’t even know you  _ kept it _ \- I thought maybe you just put it in a dusty old  _ drawer _ . You put it on this  _ beautifully polished _ violin?!” Patton almost cracked up with emotion.

 

“I told you I would keep it somewhere  _ safe _ , didn’t I? I kept my word! My violin is my most prized possession.” He stated this proudly, which only made Patton blush. Good thing the night was dark and the redness of his face was impossible to see. “I remember you being extremely energetic when you gave it to me.”

 

_ “Excited _ . I was excited. I was excited  _ because- _ !” Patton paused to dig around in his pants pocket, taking out a cat sticker the same size and holding it up to the moonlight so Logan could see. “I found us matching stickers that day!”

 

“They aren’t matching. That is a cat. The one you gave me is a unicorn. Did you really carry that around for six months-?”

 

_ “No _ , silly. I meant they match our _ onesies!  _ Here, hang on a sec.” He turned to pick up his ukulele, undoing the plastic wrap on the sticker and smoothing it down on the top right-hand corner of the instrument. He held it up between them, and Logan followed suit with his own instrument without thinking. 

 

“See?! Now we really are matching!”

 

The two stickers reflected a bit of light, the cartoonish animals smiling back at the two sides. Logan felt a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest he did not fully understand. Patton was practically bouncing in his seat- Logic looked over nervously as if the excitable man might fall off the roof.

 

“It’s…” He paused, struggling to find a word. Patton assumed he was going to say something along the lines of _ ‘They certainly are instruments’, _ and Patton would have bubbled in happiness anyway. He knows Logan has trouble expressing himself. So, when Logan finally spoke the words “It really is lovely, Patton,” he jumped up in excitement, making Logan scramble backward in surprise.

 

“We should play something.”

 

“Play something-? A ukulele and a violin. Patton, they’re practically on the opposite side of the spectrum of music-”

 

“Nonsense!” He strummed a few C notes and nodded to Logan. “Gather your talent. We’re playing something!”

 

Logan shrugged, standing with ease on the odd surface of the roof. He really must be up here every week- Patton was still a bit wobbly. Logan had to search for the bow for a moment- it must have rolled away when Patton made Logan fall over in surprise. But eventually he retrieved it, returning to the waiting male once more, violin already tucked under his chin.

 

“Alright. Did you have anything in mind-?” Logan asked, a few long, minor notes flowing out of the violin.

 

“Nope!” Replied Patton, several short, major notes jumping out of the ukulele.

 

No more words were exchanged there, the two having a sudden staring contest as Logan played his slow, love letter to the stars and Patton played his fast, campfire story to the moon.

 

It sounded horrible.

 

But both Patton and Logan seemed to be deaf, their stares turning challenging and their hands moving faster. Logan grew intense and Patton grew menacing- as menacing as you can be with a ukulele. It began to sound more like a fight than a song and finally, the two broke off the sound with sour notes and large sighs.

 

“Oof,” muttered Logan, tapping his chin with the bow and looking down in thought. “As the voice of reason in this house, I have an authority to say, that almost made my ears bleed.”

 

“We’re just not reading the same sheet music!” Patton’s tone was hopeful, and he held up a finger as an idea popped in his head. “I know something to help us get on the same page!”

 

“We’re not reading  _ any _ sheet music- was that a pun-?” Logan accused, before Patton could snap his fingers and suddenly the two were in classic Sherlock cosplay, a wink coming from the Watson figure. Logan in his hat, scarf, and coat with Patton in his hat, scarf, and hoodie- which now had a bit of a cat element. It wasn’t exactly the same as last time, but John Watson seemed like a man who liked cats, anyway. Logan blinked in surprise, glancing down at his new outfit.

 

“And this will help us ‘get on the same page’?”

 

“Yep! Sherlock and Watson are on the same page all the time- you could be Sherlock, with your distinguished guitar, and I could be Watson, with my baby guitar!”

 

“Baby guitar. Watson does not play a ‘baby guitar.’” Logan decided not to touch the statement of the two detectives being 'on the same page'. It was semi-accurate.

 

“Says  _ you _ . It’s my new  _ ‘headcanon’! _ Watson has a ukulele!”

 

...

 

The two stared at each other once more, silence passing between the opposite sides. With an understood renewed confidence, they simultaneously picked up their instruments again, playing intensely at each other. Logan seemed to be combing out a ‘Für Elise’, while Patton plucked out a ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’.

 

It did not sound as horrible as before, but the song would definitely not do well if brought to the ears of anyone besides them.

 

Even if they both knew this wasn’t working, they still continued until their respective songs were done. Well- at least, Logan did. But ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ was a lot shorter of a song, so Patton had to play it over and over until Logan was finished.

 

He ended the note with a sigh, and a short nod. “I do believe that was quite terrible. The improvement was minima-”

 

“Infinitesimal?”

 

Normally this would set Logan off, but this was his Wisdom Roof. Logan rolled his eyes and shot a stern but knowing glare. “One. Mistake.  _ Now-” _

 

“Are you sad?”

 

…?

 

The question caught Logan by surprise- he stepped back a small bit and tilted his head like a dog who just witnessed something weird and unfamiliar. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“Well- I just mean. Your music is always so… sad. The way you play. Maybe it’s just today but- it’s odd to hear a sad song coming from someone who actually smiled more than twice in a row today!”

 

Logan smiled again, if only for the purpose of making Patton happy. He didn’t realize the caring man had been counting. “You know, when I first started playing the violin, I wondered why I enjoyed sad songs. In fact- I didn’t even realize they held the characterization of ‘sad’. To me they were just notes. Half notes and full notes and pauses and quarter notes that eventually formed what was called a song.”

 

_ Oh, another Wisdom Rant, _ thought Patton, eagerly listening.

 

“I enjoy the presence of slower songs. They feel as if a weight has been taken off your shoulders when you finish them. While ‘happier’ songs only left me more… drained. I came to an understanding- ‘Sad’ songs were played to let the sadness go. It might still be there, but I’ve let go of a large portion of it once I finish the last note. While ‘happy’ songs… Well, I can only bring myself to play those when I…  _ feel  _ overwhelmingly happy. When I’m so happy I need to let some of it go or I might stop functioning.”

 

Patton held the ukulele to his chest, his eyes wide in a new curiosity. He’s never seen this side of Logan before… The man really needs to open up and stop pretending he doesn’t have feelings.

 

And to think he would have never gotten to know this if he hadn’t decided he needed fresh air at two in the morning.

 

“When’s the last time you played a happy song…?”

 

…

 

“I believe it’s your turn. Why are you always playing such bouncy, ‘happy’ notes?”

 

Patton really didn’t like that sudden avoidance of the question, but he didn’t want to push further. “Well, shucks. I don’t have anything profound to say like you, Lo- I just play happy songs when I’m sad and happy songs when I’m happy. It’s fun to dance to and to lift a spirit- I like to sing sometimes too-!”

 

He bit his tongue at that, remembering his initial attempt at lyrics did not go very well. “Er- do you ever sing?”

 

Logan looked a bit suspicious at Patton’s sudden drop in expression, but he did not say anything, for he did not want to push further. “No. I think I’ve said before, I do not like to sing. The others say I talk enough on a daily basis, I prefer to keep my thoughts unspoken up here.”

Patton’s heart fell at that- a sad smile spreading across his face. “Oh, Logan- We never meant any-”

 

“No, no. I’ve already reflected upon that part of myself. This has been my Wisdom Roof for seven years, remember?” A playful wink was directed at Patton, who blinked back in surprise.

 

“Now. Come on. You wanted to play something. I think this exchange has helped us get ‘on the same page’.”

 

“Whahuh?”

 

“I’m not an idiot, Patton. You only get ‘fresh air’ at night when you’re not feeling your happiest. Which is why we all try our best to be extremely kind to you whenever you suggest we should go camping.”

 

_ “Huhwha?!” _

 

“Try turning that sadness into a sound. And I’ll scrap up what remains of my happiness to play a light-hearted tune.”

 

“Scrap up?! Logan-”

 

“Hush. Music is what we are making.” 

 

He didn’t speak another word before he began to play something rather bittersweet. Patton did not meet eyes with a challenging stare from the logical trait this time- rather, the man stared out to the forest of trees, eyes darting between the stars. The song was very unfamiliar to Patton- but not all unwelcome. With a few moments of listening, Patton could actually visualize the pattern Logan was following- and proceeded to join in with his ukulele.

 

It held a rocky start at first- this indeed was out of their comfort zone. But with Logan’s long experience with his instrument and Patton’s heart made of sadness, they began to create something rather beautiful. The moon slowly crawled down in the sky, making her way back to her nest of forest trees. Patton could imagine the beautiful moon smiling at both of them. He hoped she was proud of their music.

 

_ “Oh moon, oh moon, we’re sad to see you go so soon, but I hope that you know, dear moon, we’re playing this tune for you.” _

 

Logan smiled probably the biggest smile Patton had seen on his face that night, which certainly made Patton happy. He inhaled a breath to sing another line, before Logan piped up rather unexpectedly.

 

_ “My stars, my stars, you’re dimming fast, going back to Mars, but I hope that you know, dear stars, this tune we’re playing is ours.” _

 

Patton burst into giggles at that. Logan sang just a tad slower than the other, and a bit lower- the moral trait had to consciously make sure he didn’t mess up the beat they had established by excitedly strumming too fast. If they weren’t on the roof, he would have jumped up and down. He’s only heard Logan sing  _ three words-  _ and that was in front of everyone. To think that this moment was only shared between them-?

 

…

 

Now he really  _ had _ forgotten what he was sad about. But that might just be because this song made the sadness birds fly away.

 

Patton continued to happily sing, Logan occasionally humming and echoing at parts where he saw fit- as a sort of backup vocalist.

 

The two instruments might be on the opposite side of the spectrum, but Patton thought they worked well together.

 

And by Logan’s soft, short glance, he knew the logical trait agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did not expect this to be so metaphorical and shit but i got a random burst of inspiration and even if the writing isnt the best im really really proud of the idea okAY IM SORRY ///IM S O R R Y///


End file.
